


And For A Minute There

by snsk



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domestic, Family Dynamics, M/M, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:26:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6216220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snsk/pseuds/snsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Let him look inside first," Phil said, coming to stand by Dan's side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And For A Minute There

**Author's Note:**

> alright so: disclaimer. the only thing dan's brother has in common with the guy in this story is his name, i know _nothing_ about adrian, this is a piece of fanfiction, dan wants his brother's privacy respected and that's cool etc etc

Dan had arrived at the train station eleven minutes late. Adrian knew this because he’d texted [ _where are you_ ] when he’d gotten off, and eleven minutes later, when Adrian had contemplated finding a coffee kiosk and a place to sit, had gotten the reply [ _here! here outside with the taxi i’m waving_ ].

Adrian could have just gotten a taxi himself and probably been at the flat by now, but Dan had insisted. So now they were in the back of the taxi, Adrian’s bag between them, Dan pointing out landmarks quite unnecessarily.

“That’s the Eye,” he said.

“Is it _really_ ,” Adrian said.

Dan slumped back into his seat. “I’m trying to be a good host.”

“I’ve been here before!”

“Yeah, with Mum,” said Dan, which was true, in its way. Mum had been talking so much that it had been near impossible to notice any iconic London landscapes with her constantly rambling on at Dan.

“I’ll tell her you said that,” Adrian suggested, and Dan glared at him, which made things slightly less awkward. He was quiet for the rest of the trip, while Adrian stared out the window. The car pulled to a stop and Dan paid the driver with a sort of easy nonchalance that Adrian couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy about. _One day_.

“Do you want me to-” Dan said, gesturing. Adrian hefted it up his own shoulder. “Stop being so polite, it’s freaking me out,” he said.

“Right.” Dan pulled open the door. They walked up the stairs, where Dan dug around for his keys, but the door swung open before he could find them.

“You left them on the sofa,” Phil said. “Third time this month. Hey, Adrian. Come on in.”

“Shit,” Dan responded.

“Hi,” Adrian returned. Phil walked back to the lounge. Adrian followed. “Good trip?”

“Uneventful, mostly,” Adrian said.

“Hungry?”

“Yep.”

“I made a stirfry, and pasta. Does that sound good?”

“Sure, anything’s fine,” Adrian said, “as long as it’s, you know.”

“I’ll take you to your room,” Dan said. Their mum had slept here the last time, Adrian on the couch. Dan’s bedroom. Adrian glanced at the monochrome bedsheets, the piano.

“My bedroom,” Dan said unnecessarily.

“I figured,” Adrian told him.

“The bed’s all set up,” Dan said, “Phil got ready a bunch of pillows, so just discard the ones you aren’t using onto the floor.”

“Okay,” Adrian agreed, “fine.” He dug his hands into his hoodie pockets. They stood there uncomfortably.

“You know where the bathroom is, don’t you?” Dan enquired.

Adrian said, “No, I’ve completely forgotten from the last four times I’ve visited.”

“Let’s have _dinner_ ,” Dan suggested.

 

The thing was, it _was_ kind of weird without Mum here to act as buffer. She’d be filled with questions for Dan and Phil, _and oh Mrs Johnson says there’s an amazing themed tea we have to try, have you seen the exorbitant prices for 100% cotton these days you’re lucky I bought these in bulk, and Adrian’s won an award - please, Mum - for photography just last week, Adrian you know how proud your brother is of you._

Adrian had forgotten the last time he and Dan had hung out together for an extended period of time, without family around. Probably before Dan had left for uni.

Back in the lounge a delicious frying smell drifted from the direction of the kitchen. Adrian said: “Fuck, yum,” involuntarily, remembering how he hadn’t eaten since late morning, bar that single, sad sandwich on the train. Dan looked at him, amused. “It should taste pretty good, too,” he said. “Unless Phil’s had the bright idea of submitting the sugar in for the salt again.”

“That was one time,” Phil’s voice retorted, “and I was in a hurry because you kept complaining about how hungry you were. But sure, blame the cook.” He pointed a ladle at Dan as they entered.

“Sounds like Dan,” Adrian suggested.

“Let’s not all gang up against Dan, shall we,” Dan said, pulling at Phil’s apron. “Do we want wine?”

“Sure,” Adrian said.

Dan looked suspicious. “Wait. How old are you again?”

“I know how old _you_ were when you started drinking,” Adrian offered.

“We’ll all have a glass,” Phil announced pacifyingly. “Dan, get the Ribena, too.”

Dan got the Ribena.

“How are your studies?” he asked Adrian after they’d all sat down around the table. This was enough of a strange and distinctly parental, un-Dan question that Adrian paused in the middle of sticking his fork into his first piece of broccoli and looked up. Phil was also looking strangely at Dan, which reassured Adrian a bit. At least he wouldn’t be subjected to both of their strangeness at once.

“Um,” Adrian said, “they’re - they’re fine. Got an A in the last paper I turned in, so...”

Dan nodded. “That’s good. That’s great. School is important.”

Phil and Adrian exchanged a look. “So, dinner,” Phil said brightly. They tucked in.

“This is really good,” Adrian said of the stirfry and the angel’s hair, which was coated in an interesting garlic blend sauce that shouldn’t have worked, but did.

Phil looked gratified. “Thanks! I was trying it out.”

“Do you still cook your own stuff?” Dan asked.

“Uh, yes. Mum said she couldn’t be bothered fulfilling unusual dietary requirements, and I promised her I would, so.”

“Cooking is useful,” Dan pronounced. “Important life lessons, and such. You’ll appreciate it more later.”

“Anyway,” Phil said, after a beat, “we have some news.”

“Oh,” Adrian said, “okay.” He wiped his mouth on his napkin and waited, and wondered whether it would be a wedding or a baby. He’d hedge his bets on baby, given Dan’s broody tendencies and his _thing_ about how marriage had the capacity for ruining perfectly good relationships.

“We’re getting a house!” Phil said, after a glance at Dan, who’d inclined his head like, go on. “Outside of London, near Surrey. We’re moving in December.”

“Oh,” Adrian repeated. “I mean! Congrats, guys, that’s huge.”

“We wanted you to come see it tomorrow,” Dan said, voice oddly tentative. “If you’d like. Or, if you’d rather explore London, that’s fine too-”

“No, I’ll go!”Adrian said. “I’ll go, yeah, I’m excited.”

“You don’t sound very surprised, though,” Phil observed.

“No, it’s just-” Adrian said. “Mum said you guys were moving ages ago, she said she’d seen the brochures when she’d last come over.”

“Didn’t we shove that away and lock the - oh, nevermind,” Dan said, as Phil laughed. “Thanks, Mum.”

They ate in companionable silence for a bit. And then Dan said: “So. Have you been seeing anyone lately? Girlfriend, or-”

Adrian spluttered a bit on his mouthful. Phil said: “Dan!”

“Or boyfriend, or partner, I don’t mean to be presumptuous,” Dan amended.

“Daniel, darling. Love of my life,” Phil said. “Could I see you in private for a bit?”

Adrian understood that this wasn’t really a question from the way that Dan got up and followed Phil into the kitchen. He stared down at his pasta and took another bite. It really was quite good.

Unfortunately, the glass door seemed quite the opposite of private. As noisily as Adrian chewed, he couldn’t quite block out the sound of his brother and his brother’s boyfriend’s voices. He chewed anyway, desperate.

“Why are you being weird and interrogatory to your brother?” Phil was demanding.

“I’m not being wei- fine, maybe I am being a bit weird,” Dan admitted. “Fine, okay, fine. I’ll stop.”

“I’d like to know why,” Phil insisted.

“Fuck, Phil,” Dan exhaled. Adrian was very studiously squinting down at his food, but he could imagine Dan running a hand through his own hair, a _Dan_ gesture of frustration. “It’s ‘cause I’m nervous, right? Like, I’ve fucked it up with him, and he doesn’t even like me, and I don’t know him half as well as I’d like. And also maybe the whole I’m not cut out for dealing with younger people deal, Phil, what if-”

“Our kid is not going to hate you,” Phil interrupted.

“...our kid hates me,” Dan finished.

“I don’t think you’ve fucked it up with Adrian,” Phil said. “He’s still here, that’s got to count for something. Why don’t you try being a little less scary parental and a little more _hey, bro, haven’t seen you in a while_. Yeah?”

“...Yeah,” Dan said after a little bit.

Having decided that this was a little too long to be studiously observing his pasta, Adrian shifted his gaze and started studiously observing Dan’s vacated chair, which meant he saw Phil place a small kiss on Dan’s temple and usher him out into the dining area again out of the corner of his eye.

“And our kid is not going to hate you,” Phil repeated.

“You say that like you’re sure,” Dan said as he opened the glass, extremely not soundproof door.

“Hey,” Adrian said.

“Hey,” Dan said, and glanced at Phil, who tilted his head slightly and encouragingly. “Have you listened to The Life of Pablo yet?”

“No,” Adrian told him, and grinned at Dan’s indignant look. “But I’m sure you’re itching to give me a blow-by-blow account of each track.”

Dan was.

 

In the taxi to Dan and Phil’s new house the next morning, Adrian fiddled with his phone. Three texts from Josh, five from Latisha, twelve from Mum (to which he’d replied [ _hey, yeah im good, exploring london today_ ]. He wasn’t sure if this was a secret, but Dan would probably want to tell her himself. Or leave it until the week before they’d moved in, which had been the case with their current flat. “You’re - _where_ ,” Mum had demanded. “ _When_?”)

London gradually got more suburb-y, tall shady trees replacing tall placid buildings, and Phil, in the front, said: “Yeah, make a left - here, I think. That’s great.”

Dan slanted a look sideways as Phil paid the driver and Adrian clambered out of the car. He held it in until Adrian started up the driveway, then, like he couldn’t take it, “What do you think?”

The house was off-white, large-windowed, front-lawned. It had a driveway and what looked like a big backyard. Vines crept up the side; it was unassuming. Suburban. Peaceful.

“Let him look inside first,” Phil said, coming to stand by Dan’s side. He knocked his knuckles against Dan’s hip, let them rest. It somehow managed to look as intimate as a kiss. Adrian looked away at the house again.

“Wait ‘til you see,” Dan said, as Phil unlocked the door. “Adrian, look.” He rushed towards the fireplace, red brick enclosing cool stone.

“It’s what decided it for him,” Phil said.

“Sounds like Dan,” Adrian agreed.

“Look how pretty,” Dan said, running his hands over the brick.

“The kitchen’s pretty as well,” Phil said, leaving Dan to fondle the fireplace. “Look at those cabinets, that countertop. Gorgeous finish. Sorry, I’ve got a bit of a real estate fetish, I was browsing Zoopla years before we bought this. Do you want to see the bedrooms?”

There was a large oak tree overlooking the back. You could see it from the master bedroom, the guest, and another, one wall of which its previous inhabitant had left a mural of clouds littered with winged ponies and glittery fairies.

“Kids’ room?”

Adrian really hadn’t meant the question like that, but Phil just said, “Maybe?” His attention was caught on the backyard out the window.

“Dan wants a swing,” he said.

“He had one when we were younger. I broke it when i was what, five? Dad said he was going to repair it. He never got around to it.” Adrian had never considered the fact that Dan might have missed it; he had vague memories of him nagging Dad about it, but he’d stopped, of course, eventually. “It’s a lovely house. I’d like to come and visit.”

Phil was looking at him. Adrian’s mind abruptly recalled the first time he’d met him - barging into Dan’s room late at night, _Dan did you take my earphones again,_ cutting himself off as Dan’s grin dissipated into annoyance. There’d been a guy onscreen, waving at Adrian from his bed, wherever in the world that could be.

Adrian had waved back, a reflexive, limp movement, then gaped a bit.

“Adrian,” Dan had said in the end, an irritated exhalation, “this is Phil.”

Phil had said something. Adrian couldn’t hear it because his earphones, plugged into the laptop, were in Dan’s ears. Dan tugged them out, tossed them over.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you,” Phil had said, voice crackly, voice cheerful.

 

“You should tell Dan that,” Phil in the present said, “I think he’d like to hear it.”

He smiled at Adrian, and Adrian realised that Phil probably knew their kitchen door wasn’t soundproof.

“Hear what?” Dan asked from the doorway, like he’d been summoned by Phil’s voice.

“I love the house,” Adrian told him.

“Have you seen the guestroom?” Dan asked.

“No,” Adrian said, even though he had.

Phil hummed. “Dan, show him it,” he said, tapping two fingers on Dan’s elbow as he squeezed past. “I think I hear Mrs LeBlanc pulling in; I’m going to establish some neighbourly relations.”

“I thought, like, curtains,” Dan said, waving a hand towards the guestroom wall. “And, like, a bed there. Wood. Y’know?”

Adrian nodded.

“I thought you could pick the colour, though,” Dan said. “Cause when - if you come to stay, you’ll sleep here.”

His face was uncertain. Adrian remembered, then, being twelve, watching Dan enter his room.

“That was Phil,” Dan had announced, arms folded, leaning against the doorway.

“You introduced us,” Adrian reminded him. Then, because he’d been twelve and he couldn’t help it, “is he your _boyfriend_?”

Dan’s face had snapped shut, a decision somewhere within him, one Adrian hadn’t been able to see. “ _No_ ,” he said. “No, that’s my friend. Don’t be a perv.”

 

“I’d - yeah,” Adrian said now. “Definitely. You can show me all the samples, I’ll reject them all ‘cause your taste is shit and Phil lets you have your own way too much and then I’ll pick my own - yeah. Should be fun.”

Dan’s face was happy in the split second it took him to form an expression of mock-exasperation.

“I’m regretting this already,” he said.

“Can’t go back now,” Adrian replied.

“God,” Dan said. They started walking out of the room. “Hey. I saw those emo Trapped Under Ice lyrics on tumblr. Are you sure you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Fuck off, Dan,” Adrian moaned.

“Crush, then,” Dan said, grinning. “You don’t even have to answer verbally! Blink once for yes.”

“I wish _your_ boyfriend would come and save me from this conversation.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will,” Dan said. “But we’ve got time.”

He was right, in fact. They had plenty of it.

 


End file.
